Acquiring Trouble

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

An Original work of Kathleen Brooks.Acquiring Trouble.KindleEditioncopyright @ 2013 by Kathleen Brooks

Cover art provided byCalistaTaylor.

http://www.calistataylor.com

Editing provided by Karen Lawson.

http://www.theproofisinthereading.wordpress.com

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Acquiring Trouble

Acknowledgment

Thank you to Mrs. O fortaking the time to teachme about PTSD in our soldiers. There are so many wonderfulorganizations providing care to our men and women in service.I encourageeveryoneto learn how you can help.

As always, thank you Chris, Milo, Marcia, Craig, Karen, Jan, andCalistafor yourhardwork.I am thankful to have such a wonderful team of people to work with.

Miles Davies leaned against the wall and took a sip of beer out of the red plastic cup he held.He glanced around at the peopledancing in the living room of his best friend's house as the band played. His friend, Josh,was currently shirtless as he pounded away on the drums while playing some Green Day song.

It seemed as if this memory would live in his mind forever. He couldn't believe he had just graduated from high school and soon everyone in the room would be drifting off all over the country.Joshwas off to the University of Louisvillewhilehe was going down to Texas A&M at the endof summer—hopefully not alone.

Miles looked up fromhis beer to see the breathtakingly beautiful blonde in a tight white dress, pearls around her neckandwearingcowboy boots,sauntering towardhim.Her perkybreastsbounced and drew his attention asa bralessStacy Thomas, the captain of the cheerleading team,approached him.

He ran his hand over shoulder-length brown hair and pushed a stray lock behind his ear. Stacy stopped in front of him andshot hima smile that went straight to his groin. She reached her slender hand out and took his red cup from him. She wrinkled her nose at thesmell, but took a drink anyway.

"I don't know how you men can drink this stuff."

"It'san acquired taste, babe."

"I know what I have a taste for, but I can't get it here in the middle of a roomful of people," Stacy's perfectly pink bottom lip stuck out slightly as she pouted. Miles felt her eyes roaming his body and he responded instantly.

"I can go see if Josh's room is empty while your girlssteal you away from me." Miles kept one eye on a group of cheerleaders making their way to their captain. "It's the last room on the right. Come find me when you're done. There's somethingI want to ask you about sodon't let themkeep youtoo long." He leaned down and captured her lips in his. He plunged his tongue into her mouth just long enough to have her leaning into him. There. That should hurry her up.

Miles smiled atthe gaggleof girls now surrounding their leader and headed down the hall, past the keg, and into his friend's room. It was quieter down here and gave him the privacy he needed to gather his courage. Stacy had beenacceptedto Vanderbilt University's pre-med program. It's where her father had gone and where she was expected to go too. She was going to be spending the summer shadowingher father at the hospital. Miles was hoping that three years of dating was enough to sway her from that path.

He took a deep breath andput his hand in hispocket to finger the small thinpromise ring he had bought her. He was going to ask Stacy to transfer to Texas A&M so that they wouldn't have to do the long-distance-relationship thing. He'd already looked at apartments for them both and knew she'd say yes if he asked. She had hinted at it many timesover the past couple of weeks.

The knock on the door caused his breath to catch in his throat. He had never been so nervous! He watched as thedoorknobturned and a big black boot appeared. He looked up in confusion and saw the pale white skin, ink black hair,and vibrant violeteyes of Morgan Hamilton. Great, just what he needed. The bad girl of Keenestonwasprobably trying to sneak a smoke or take a swig of vodka in privacy before vandalizing the room. Who knew what she wanted, but it probably wasn't good.

He had once thought Morgan was nice, even pretty. But that was before freshman year. Morgan's sister had wasted no time in showing everyone how little she thought of Morgan when she started high school. Her sister had been thecheerleader captainthen,and between their dislike and Morgan's subsequent behavior it was clear she wasn't the type of girl Miles would ever go for.

She only wore black and she had dyed a streak of her hair purple. It matched her eyes perfectly, but he doubted she cared. Thick eyeliner coated her eyelids anddrew attention to her eyebrowpiercing.

"Morgan? Do you need something?" Miles asked her. He glanced at the clock;Stacy would be here soon and he wanted Morgan out before she arrived. Stacy hated Morgan more than any person in the world. "Morgan, what are you doing here?"he asked again when she just stood there staring for a moment.

He saw her take a breath and then walk all the way into the room, closing the door gently behind her. She looked up and pinned him with her eyes. The violet shade darkened and he couldn't help but momentarily get lost in them.

"When faced with the probability of everyone going away to college or jobs outside of Keeneston,it seems as if tonight gives us a certain freedom to say and do things we've always wanted without fear of embarrassment or ridicule at school on Monday morning," she said confidently as she walked closer to him. Her voice was lower than Stacy's, but seemed to weave a spell around him.

"I suppose." Milesfelt his browfurrow in confusion as he watched this little imp stop in front of him. She barely made it up to his chest, butfewwomen did. He was six two and his cowboy boots made him even a bit taller than that.

"I have to tell you something,” Morgan paused.“Thank you," she choked out.

"For what?"

"You were always kind to me, even when othersweren’t. You helped me study for that math test sophomore year when no one else would be my study partner and you never pretended I was invisible. I really appreciate that. You were the only one who did so."

"Appearancedoesn’tmake a person!" Morgan said as she placed her hands on her hips and stared him down.

"See, that's why people weren't nice to you. You're so short and defensive with people. Maybe if you actedmore like your sister…"

"Oh! My sister—thefreakingsaint! I could never live up to her. No one could! Tell me, Miles,would my sister do this?"

Morgan grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down before he could even realize what was happening. Her lips, purple lipstick and all, were on his kissing him hard. He was shocked. Shocked by the fact that he liked it. Shocked when her aggressive tongue pushed into his mouth. Shocked that he felt full breasts against his chestandahand sliding down to cup his growing erection.He couldn't help himself. He closed his eyes and lost himself in her intoxicating touch.